Behind me, my dragon shifts, and a moment later I feel a rush of cool air as my diaper is stripped from me. My school uniform is raised out of the way, tucked up into the waistband of the skirt, leaving me bare and exposed.
Daddy grabs my legs, shifting me so I’m forced to bend at the waist, to expose myself further. Anger flashes through me, dispelling that peace I felt only a moment ago, but I swallow it down as I shift into position, offering myself up for my punishment.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl tonight, Isabella.” Daddy’s voice is calm, without even a hint of the anger I feel coursing through my veins. “Naughty and rebellious and defiant. Because you still don’t believe, not truly, that you are my Little girl. Tonight we are going to fix that, once and for all. Tonight you are going to learn that every inch of your sweet body belongs to your Daddy.”
A sharp spank lands on my bottom, right at the sensitive curve where ass meets thigh, and butterflies explode in my stomach. He’s aiming to teach me a lesson, right from the start, and I know without him saying a word that this is a punishment I will feel for days to come.
Over and over he spanks me, covering my entire bottom and upper thighs with stinging swats, until every inch that he’s touched feels like he sat me on a hot stove. I dance in place, yelping with every spank, but with my arms tied as they are, there is no escaping my punishment.
By the time he stops, his hand stroking my heated flesh, I’m panting and gasping for air, my bottom radiating with pain. And for a moment, I think how well I took my punishment, without begging or pleading even once.
Then my gaze lands on the thick leather strap in front of me, and I realize he’s only just begun.
As if sensing my thoughts, Daddy picks up the leather, allowing it to dangle in front of me for a moment before he takes up his position behind me again.
“Normally, I would have a set number of strokes in mind, depending on the severity of the offense. But this isn’t about correcting a specific behavior. This is about reminding you of your place, little one. So I am not going to stop until I am absolutely convinced you understand andbelieveyou belong with me.”
“Then you're going to have to whip me until your arm falls off because I will never accept that.”
“We’ll see.”
With that, pain explodes across my bottom. Deep, stinging pain more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before and I can’t stop myself from crying out. The island itself seems to swallow my cries, drinking them in before they have a hope of reaching anyone.
Not that it would matter. Who on this island would dare defy my Daddy and come to my rescue? There is no knight, no savior.
There is only me and him and the lesson he’s determined to teach me.
A second stroke catches the lower half of my bottom, the edge of the leather digging into my sit-spots and I know wearing a diaper after this will be utter agony. The third lands even lower, and tears blur my vision as the pain threatens to overwhelm me.
“Who do you belong to, Isabella?”
Gasping for air, I shake my head. “No one.”
Wrong answer. Even if he doesn’t speak the words, they seem to reverberate in the very air around us as the sickening crack of leather meeting skin rings out in the night. Every few strokes, he stops to ask me the same question, and every few strokes, I give him the same answer.
I’ve lost count of how many times he’s whipped me when he stops, brushing my hair back from my tear and sweat soaked face. “You can stop this whenever you want, little doll. I don’t want to break you, but if that’s what it takes for you to accept the truth, then I will.”
Turning my head, I meet his dark gaze. “You will never break me.”
Determination flashes in his eyes. “You’re far more fragile than you’ll ever admit, Isabella. And you will break. It’s up to you how long it takes.”
When the whipping starts again, there is no pause this time. The strokes land faster, harder than before, and try as I might to cling to myself, I know in my heart he’s right. I am but a fragile little doll, and if he wants to break me, there is nothing I can do to stop him.
And then it happens. The strap lands at exactly the right spot, criss-crossing over the welts the leather has already raised on my skin, and my mind goes blank with the pain. White explodes behind my eyelids, and I scream into the night as I collapse to my knees, sobbing.
While I’m kneeling there, my hands still trapped against the railing, weeping out the weeks of pain and fear and anger, he kneels beside me, his gentle hand stroking my hair.
“Who do you belong to, Isabella?”
There’s no point in fighting it any longer. I tried, I tried so hard, and my heart breaks for the version of myself that thought I could win against him as I sob out my answer. “Y-you.”
“And who am I?”
“D-Daddy.”
“My precious little doll. I hope after tonight there will never again be a question of you leaving my side. On your feet.”
He helps me stand, this time allowing me to lean forward and rest my torso on the marble railing as he takes his place behind me. Through the haze of my grief and tears, I hear the sound of a zipper coming undone and what sounds like liquid being squirted out of a bottle.
